Housemates
by ece23
Summary: Starsky wants Hutch to buy a house with him. But when Hutch has an accident while working on the house, Starsky starts to rethink his idea.


_Thanks to Valerie for lending me her idea for this one, and also to Wuemsel for the suggestions and encouragement._

_For this story I assumed that Starsky did go back to work after Sweet Revenge, as I think that's what would have happened if there'd been a season 5, and so this is post-SR. I'm still new to writing so any feedback's appreciated!_

_Usual disclaimer: I don't own the guys, just having fun. _

Starsky stumbled out of his bedroom rubbing sleep from his eyes, headed for the coffee maker, and collected his pile of mail, looking through it while he waited for the coffee. It had been over a year since the Gunther shooting and some months ago he'd managed to convince Hutch that he no longer needed 24 hour babysitting, and so Hutch had gone back to live in his own apartment, leaving Starsky alone in his place. Starsky picked out what appeared to be his rent bill and frowned in distaste. He'd often thought that instead of paying rent every month, it'd be nice to have his own house, but he knew he couldn't afford to do that on his own.

Suddenly an idea came to him. He'd thought of something like it before, but Hutch hadn't been impressed with the place he'd found. Instead of them both paying rent on apartments, and since Hutch seemed to be calling him all the time anyway, maybe this time they could really find a nice house, that they both liked, to buy and fix up together? And not just fix it up as part of a get-rich-quick scheme, but really move in this time. He was suddenly full of enthusiasm as he finished getting ready for work and waited for Hutch to pick him up. They'd stayed at each other's apartments enough times to know the others habits, they'd shared rooms before, and they'd definitely seen each other at their worst, especially after the shooting. They nearly always rode to work together, and hung out together a lot. Plus they'd save quite a bit of money. What did they have to lose? Now he just had some major Hutch-convincing to do. When he heard the sound of Hutch's old car outside, he bounced out of the apartment and into the car, giving Hutch a blinding grin as he arrived.

Hutch pretended to shield his eyes and asked suspiciously "What are you up to this morning?"

"Why would I be up to anything? Can't I just be happy to see my best pal?"

"Usually, no." Although Hutch was teasing his friend, there was an underlying softness to his words that let Starsky know he didn't really mean it.

"Well, remember how one time I told you it'd be a good idea to buy a house together and fix it up?"

"Yeah. And like an idiot, I went along with it, and in the end we gave up and got rid of the house." _What idea has he come up with now, _thought Hutch, as he drove away from Starsky's apartment and towards the police station.

"I liked it", said Starsky, still thinking of the house that he'd convinced Hutch to put a deposit on with him, in the hope that they could fix it up and make some money selling it on.

"Well you told me it was a fixer-upper, not a falling-down old shack!" complained Hutch.

"Well, what if we did it again-" Hutch pretended to bang his blond head against the steering wheel, but Starsky ignored his lack of enthusiasm and ploughed on "but we didn't sell it, we lived in it?"

"Are you proposing to me now?"

Starsky pouted. "Don't be mean. Think about it. We'd save money on rent, 'cause we'd be paying mortgage between us. And you could mother-hen me to death. And I kinda like havin' you around the place, cooking and stuff."

Hutch sighed, and Starsky grinned triumphantly. Both knew that since Starsky had been shot, Hutch worried about him more than ever. But could he convince Hutch to do this?

"Since when were you running our lives?" Hutch wanted to know. The truth was he found it hard to deny his childlike partner anything, but he wasn't quite convinced by Starsky's plan. Starsky knew he had some work to do.

***

Over the next few weeks, Starsky pestered his partner relentlessly about his idea, leaving strategically-placed house advertisements around where Hutch would find them, and talking non-stop about how much better houses were than apartments, until Hutch threatened to beat him over the head with the papers if he didn't shut up for a while. Whenever Starsky could get him to look at one, he always found something wrong with it.

It was always "Starsk, that's not a lawn, it's a jungle. That's not a house, it's a box. Oh look, they've forgotten to put the roof on that one."

Starsky wouldn't give up though, and although Hutch wouldn't admit it, he was starting to think more seriously about the idea.

***

A few days later, in the squadroom, Starsky was sat on the desk cheerfully munching chocolate while searching through the ads for houses in the newspapers, while Hutch was catching up on reports and trying to decipher the notes Starsky had scrawled down for him.

Starsky suddenly burst in on Hutch's concentration with "Hutch! I found it!"

"What, your brain?" Hutch asked with a grin.

"No, meanie, the perfect house!"

Hutch sighed. When Starsky got an idea in his head there really was no stopping him.

"Listen to this Hutch: it's about 20 minutes drive from here, 2 bedrooms, spacious kitchen and living area. You can make up all your health freak stuff in that kitchen!"

"How many of those rooms are actually intact?"

"Well, it needs _some _work...but it's habitable!"

Hutch snatched the paper from Starsky and gazed at the picture. It did actually look...nice. Hutch tried to imagine it. He'd moved in with Starsky for some months after the shooting, and he had to admit he'd missed having that company. Starsky was right about it saving money too.

As if he'd read his thoughts, Starsky broke in again with "Hey, Hutch? With the money you'll save, maybe you can buy a decent car for once."

He sighed in defeat, deliberately ignoring the joke about his cars. "Ok, ok, we'll go see it. But I'm not promising anything!"

Starsky's face lit up with delight, which made the whole thing worth it for Hutch. Starsky hadn't had a lot of reasons to smile lately.

***

They arrived at the house after work, and Hutch had to admit it looked just like it did in the photo Starsky had shown him, and still...nice.

Starsky had proudly told the estate agent "I'm Dave Starsky, and this is my partner Ken," and let the guy draw his own conclusions.

It needed painting, and some holes needed filling in, and the flooring and roof needed fixing, and there were a few hanging electrical cables here and there, but all in all it didn't look too bad. The price didn't sound too bad either. Hutch looked at Starsky, who was grinning from ear to ear as he tried to pick out his bedroom.

Hutch grinned back at him. "Who says you get to pick first?"

Starsky's face lit up for the second time that day. "You mean you like it?"

"Yeah, buddy, I give in. I like it. It'll be good for us to have a project to work on." _And good for you especially_, he thought. He had to admit it was a good idea, and it'd be nice for them to have some fun doing this. Starsky's arguments did make sense too, he supposed.

"Terrific! It'll be like being roommates again. It'll be just like at the academy."

"Don't remind me, I might change my mind."

***

They both gave their notice on their apartments and moved their stuff into the house, having decided that it was okay to live in while they worked on it, and that it made more sense than paying instalments on the house as well as the rent for their apartments. They had agreed to leave anything difficult or dangerous, like electrics, to the professionals, and just work on the easier stuff that they could do themselves. They were still on relatively light duty, and so had some time in the early evening to come back and work on the place.

"Hey, Hutch?" Starsky called from his position at the bottom of the stairs.

Half way up the stairs, Hutch was attempting to fix the banister rail, with limited success, due to the fact that Starsky now had motormouth-syndrome and was interrupting him every few seconds.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"Remember the academy?"

Hutch rolled his eyes. "Of course. Why?"

"When you were trying to knock a nail into the wall of our room, to hang a picture or somethin', and you knocked your thumb instead?"

"Yeah..." replied Hutch patiently.

"Well, then I told you that you should never try DIY again...and what're we doing?" Starsky giggled helplessly.

"I'm glad _you're _enjoying yourself," muttered Hutch.

***

Some weeks later, a lot of the work inside the house was done. The guys had been working on it in their evenings after work, and all that was left to do was repair a couple more holes and then finish the decorating and garden. Hutch was on the roof fixing a hole. He knew this was dangerous and he should have waited for someone to help, but he didn't want Starsky overdoing things yet, and it didn't seem too difficult, and so he was getting this done himself while Starsky was out on a mission to buy snacks. He'd insisted on going, complaining that Hutch would probably buy banana chips or something if it was left to him.

He was just about done, and as he started to come down the ladder, he was congratulating himself on the good job. The ladder was old and wobbly, and he wished he had someone to hold it for him. Suddenly the rung he was standing on gave way and snapped. He tried to get his feet on another rung but the ladder was slippery and he plunged to the ground, landing on his already-damaged back. It reminded him of the other house Starsky had made him look at where he ended up falling through the front fence, and he would have laughed if it hadn't hurt so much.

_Can't let Starsky see this, _he thought, trying to get to his feet before realising that it was impossible.

His last thought before blacking out was _"Now Starsky's definitely gonna overdo it". _

***

That was where Starsky found him ten minutes later, and he dropped to the ground beside his friend, ignoring the bag of snacks that was in his hands. He gently tapped the blonds face.

"Hey, Hutch? Can you wake up for me?" he begged.

Hutch did open his eyes. "Hey Starsk. Damn ladder broke. Don't...worry too much, okay?" then his eyes closed again.

"Okay, buddy, I'm gonna get help." Starsky scrambled to his feet and ran to the phone. As he dialled, he couldn't stop thinking,_ This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me._

***

Starsky sat by Hutch's bedside, holding his hand and waiting for him to wake up.

"I'm sorry Hutch – this is my fault. It was my idea to start with; you wouldn't even have done it if it wasn't for me. Maybe we should just stop now, give up and sell the house. Maybe it's a dumb idea. You got hurt because of me. What am I supposed to do about that?" He was dangerously close to crying.

To his surprise, Hutch opened his eyes and looked at him.

"No, Starsk. Don't be sorry. Was a good idea. Can't give up now. Not your fault. Thing is...I kinda like the idea of living with you." Though Hutch was doped up on painkillers, he still made his meaning clear.

"Really?" Starsky asked, still upset.

"Yeah. Even if you do snore." At that, Starsky laughed softly.

"Accidents...happen, Starsk." Hutch whispered, falling asleep again, and Starsky smiled. Maybe it would be okay.

***

A week later, Starsky took Hutch back to the house. He'd been let out of the hospital on the condition that he took it easy, and Starsky had promised to make sure of it.

As they pulled up at the front of the house, Hutch noticed a difference.

"Hey Starsk, did you do the garden?"

"Yep." He answered proudly. "All the weeds are gone. And see the bench there?"

"Yeah, I like it."

Starsky grabbed Hutch's arm and pulled him out of the car. "Wait 'til you see inside!"

Half-dragging Hutch into the house, he showed him the newly-painted and carpeted living room.

"That's great Starsk. I really like it!" he said truthfully.

"Now wait 'til you see your room! It's good, really!" he promised at Hutch's worried groan.

"You must have worked really hard to get all this done Starsk." _I wanted him to be careful. _

"Yeah, but I kind of roped in some help, and we got it done in the times when I wasn't visiting you. And it was worth it", he added. "Now, you're going to bed and I'm gonna cook!"

"God help us. But you know Starsk, this work you've done is amazing."

"Yeah, well, some partners are worth it", he mumbled, "and this is gonna become a soapy scene if I'm not careful. But I just wanna say thanks, as well, for going along with me on this. I'm sorry you got hurt."

"Starsk, we discussed this. I wanted to do it, and what happened was an accident, not your fault. Now, no more about it." Hutch placed his hand on Starsky's shoulder, and their eyes met as they shared a wordless communication.

"Ok. At least you didn't get a comedy injury!" Starsky added, grinning, "I mean, I guess it could be worse. You could have had an unfortunate painting accident, and then think of the result. Imagine tryin' to explain that one to everyone."

"Yeah." He smiled fondly at the animated curly-haired man. "You know, I think this is gonna be good."

END


End file.
